


let me be the sunrise of your broken heart

by ohbarbara



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Yeah idk either, lol I'm so ridiculous, the e/l and e/h are very vague though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohbarbara/pseuds/ohbarbara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>disclaimer: this is fanfiction ie fiction for fans so do not consider this anything other than fiction nor show it to anyone who isn't a fan, especially not people who know the people in this fic thanks!</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me be the sunrise of your broken heart

Sometimes Eleanor thinks she lives in the wettest place on Earth.

It's been raining for ten fucking days and her hair looks like shit and she's had to resort to wearing her older, less nice clothes because she can't get anything dry and she's sure she'll get glares from people from her history class for not making an effort. (It's not really about the rain. It's never been about the rain.)

And she's already had two lectures today and she just cannot be bothered anymore. _I don't have to impress you_ , she thinks. _I couldn't even if I tried_. She sits down at a cafe and checks her phone. She's got three missed calls and two voicemails and her back hurts from lugging around textbooks and she's just so fucking sick of it all. She debates with herself about deleting them but then decides that they wouldn't be the mature response but when the fuck did she decide that she had to be mature?

One of the missed calls is from Harry. She instinctively rolls her eyes. Whenever they're all together, Harry just stares at her and she can't tell whether he wants to fuck her or kill her but she wouldn't mind either. She starts listening the message then starts. When did Harry become Irish? Are they slowly becoming some sort of strange hivemind? Logic kicks in a second later and she realises it's Niall on Harry's phone. _Fucking co-dependent dickheads,_ she thinks.

He's babbling about some party that Eleanor should come to. She thinks about shooting back _how about no_ but then she takes a deep breath and texts back 'fine, send me the details'. She gets a half-mispelled, mostly lowercase text back and nearly curses. Why did her boyfriend have to be in a band with high school dropouts? Harry's texts are the only ones she can actually read and they're always vaguely annoying like he'll suggest she listen to a song and she'll get so fucking annoyed that he presumes to know her taste that she won't reply straight away and then she'll just forget until he texts her asking if she's seen a movie and she'll feel guilty and send back a phony nice text back. Harry never gives up though. He's just so nice and it drives her mad.

She looks up the address on google maps (Niall's only made one spelling error; it's a miracle) and fuck it, it's twenty minutes away and she looks like shit and she hates parties really and why the fuck isn't her _boyfriend_ asking her to these things? Why does it have to be one of his overly nice quasi-brethren? 

She wants to send all that back but all she sends is 'Great, can't wait. Thanks Niall!' God, sometimes she even annoys herself.

 

She finally gets to the party fucking forty minutes later and it's still raining and they're playing The Wanted and she just wants to get the fuck out of there but then Niall spots her and runs over. 'Eleanor!!' he yells and pulls her into a slightly suffocating hug. 'I'm so glad you're here,' he whispers in her ear and kisses her cheek. She forces a smile and pats his back. When did he get muscles back there? This is... interesting.

'What you drinking?' Eleanor hadn't planned on drinking. She's already got a horrible headache and she hates the way it burns her stomach when she hasn't had much to eat but maybe some alcohol could get her out of this foul mood. 

'Yeah, I'll come with you, see what we've got.' 

It turns out what they've got is terribly weak beer, pink Franzia, and some tepid white wine. _Fucking rich people._ Eleanor's about to beg off even being here when Niall suggests they go hang out somewhere else.

'Come on, Eleanor, I want to hear about your uni and that,' he says, all pink cheeks and sincerity. _Oh you do, don't you?_ Eleanor thinks. _The fit, rich popstar wants to hear about my uni classes at a rainy and cold university filled with wankers who can't stop making passive aggressive facebook posts about real music and criticising my wardrobe._ But then she looks back at him and he  _does_ look sincere and the resentment dissolves into gratitude.

'Yeah, sure. Let's go.' She willingly grabs his hand and follows him through the crowd but she can't help wondering if she'll ever be able to say no to someone again.

 

They finally find a room that isn't full of people having sex (they even run into Harry with some random girl; not kissing, just talking but all the same he looks guilty and he gives Eleanor that look again; that one look she doesn't understand) and sit down gingerly next to each other on the bed.

'So do you have many friends at your college?' Niall asks, because of course he wants to hear about friends. Niall Horan's world consists only of friendship and sunshine and Eleanor secretly approves.

'Uh, yeah, some. I just kind of hate people??' she says and cringes at how whiny she sounds. That's such a terribly fourteen-year-old thing to say but fuck it, it's true.

'You hate people?' Niall looks confused. (Of course he's confused; whatever shittiness he has to deal with is mostly abstract.)

'Yeah like I hate men because they don't even try to be interesting. They just ramble on about whatever interests them and don't give a fuck about what I think and they're so fucking arrogant and I just fucking hate blowjobs, good god. They're the fucking worst.'

There's a long and awkward silence - Niall bites his fingernails; Eleanor counts ceiling tiles - and then Eleanor decides she'd best say something not related to blowjobs.

'So where's Louis?' she asks and Niall pauses then says 'Oh yeah, he decided to not come at the last minute. Didn't I text you?' His voice has been robbed of all its usual casual confidence and Eleanor's confused. 

'Nope.'

'Oh well, I'm sorry.' His voice sounds weirdly tight.

'Niall, it's okay, oh my god, I was just asking.' Eleanor gingerly takes his hand in hers. Is this how one is meant to comfort? She hasn't had to help Louis with anything in ages. She banishes away the _he doesn't need you_ that's threatening to cross her mind, and squeezes Niall's hand.

He beams at her and all the awkwardness subsides. 

'Oh good, I just didn't want to have wasted your time I know you got your uni and your classes and your own friends and I just thought it might be a laugh,' Niall's sentences are all running together again and he's just so fucking _nice_ it makes Eleanor sick.

'Oh, Niall,' she says and that's all she can get it before she's leaning over and holding him. He collapses into her (his head's against her chest and she tries not to think _my boyfriend's best friend's face is touching my actual boobs right now this is probably not wise_ ) and she kisses his forehead. 

He turns back towards her face and he's just like actually _gazing_ at her and Eleanor could pretend she doesn't know what's going to happen next but then his lips reach up to hers and she knows it's happening but she doesn't want to close her eyes, she just sort of wants to _experience_ something for a change and his lips are chapped but wet and he tastes like beer and Zayn's cigarette smoke and Harry's cologne and Liam's freshly laundered shirts and for a moment she thinks she might even smell Louis' shampoo there and it's like she's kissing all of them but it's still distinctly Niall in the way his eyelashes are fluttering and the way he holds her face in his hands and she idly wonders how the calluses would feel pressed up against all the rest of her skin and it's all so overwhelming and she suddenly realises she hasn't breathed yet so she breaks it off abruptly and Niall makes this strangled noise like 'no'.

They just sit there panting and staring at each other and somehow their hands got interlaced and she can see her lipstick on the top of his lip and he just looks so good and there are these beads of sweat on his forehead.

She wants to say something but she just thinks _fuck it_ and leans back towards him. She's not going to kiss him; not if the first one was a mistake but she's there if he wants her. There's a moment of guardedness in his eyes and she feels crushingly disappointed but then he sort of quietly smiles at her and she can't help smiling back and he kisses her hand and then he pauses and kisses her squarely on the lips. She can hear the rain outside and she finally closes her eyes and smiles and let's it happen.

Eleanor might live in the wettest place on Earth but at least she isn't drowning anymore.


End file.
